


Bedtime story

by canned_peaches



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Smut, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Smut, canon and non canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 19:06:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canned_peaches/pseuds/canned_peaches
Summary: Francis cannot sleep, and Richard tells him a bedtime story.





	Bedtime story

**Author's Note:**

> Basically Francis can’t sleep and asked Richard to tell him a story. Not the best plot but it’s cute so I don’t care.

       Francis and I were laying in bed for the night, and I was drifting off, my head snuggled slightly in his chest. My breathing slowed and I was close to falling into the abyss of sleep. Then, jolting me out of my sleepy state, Francis whispered, “I can’t sleep, can you?” My head flew up, startled, and I slowed my breathing to calm down. “I’m sorry love, did I wake you?”

   I sat up a little further. “No, it’s fine. You can’t sleep?”

   “No.” I could not see him in the darkness but I could tell where he was by the sound of his breaths in and out.

   “What would you like me to do?” I found his chin and caressed along his jawbone. Immediately his breathing became more relaxed. He leaned lightly into my hand, like a cat would do when they’re happy with the way you’re petting them.

   “You can just keep doing that.” I continued running my hand along his flawlessly smooth skin and up to his hair, tousling his curls. “Richard?” 

   “Hmm?” I ran my hand back down his jawline. 

   “Will you tell me a story?” His voice was quiet, not quite a whisper but lower than normal and soft.

   “What kind of story?” He was so happy the way I was stroking his face I could almost hear him purring.

   “Any kind. I’ll be happy as long as I’m hearing your voice.” My eyes began to adjust to the darkness and I could see his silhouette against the sheets, his head slightly cocked to the side, curls spread around him carelessly, one arm behind his head. I wanted to stare at him for the rest of my life.

   “Okay, um, I’m not great at telling stories but here we go. There once was a young man named Richard Papen–” he chuckled softly “–who was barely over the age of 18. He wanted to go to college, and when he saw a pamphlet for Hampden University in Hampden, Vermont, he knew it was the right place for him. After many long months of convincing his parents he finally was able to get financial aid for the college and he flew out to Vermont from California, nervous but excited. When he got there, though, he was saddened to know that there was only a small Greek class of five that was exclusive and would not let him in. He admired them from afar, intrigued by all of them: Bunny Corcoran, an outgoing boy; Henry Winter, a tall, intimidating book smart man; Charles, a feisty twin; Charles’ other half, Camilla, an angelic lady; and, lastly, the charismatic, beautiful, lovely, gorgeous, intelligent, intriguing, wonderful Francis Abernathy.”

  “Awwww, Richard….” I saw his silhouette squirm around, pleased.

   “Shhhh, baby. When Richard saw Francis he knew he needed to find a way to get into that class. He went to Mr. Julian Morrow’s room and, after much convincing, he was in the Greek class. Every day, whether it was at Francis’ house in the country, on campus, or at the Brasserie, he would look at Francis and just wish he could hold him, kiss his soft lips, touch those fiery curls. When Francis made a pass on Richard one day when they were boating, Richard freaked out, though he wanted so badly not to, and wrongly convinced Francis that he was not interested. The next few months were torture, and he needed to figure out how to convince Francis that he liked him. Then, one night, after a party, Francis came into Richard’s room and they kissed. It was everything Richard had been wanting for the past weeks, months, and they got closer and closer. Now they live together and Richard is telling this story to Francis, hoping it will make it easier for him to sleep.”

   He took a deep, relaxed breath. “Richa–” he began, but before he could say my whole name I pressed my lips into his, silencing him. He let out a sound, between a moan and a squeal. We kissed and kissed side by side. “Richard?” He asked once our lips separated for a second.

   “Hmm?”

   He caressed my face slowly. “Does this… story… possibly end in the two characters making love?”

   I smiled. “If I remember correctly, it does.”

**Author's Note:**

> I will love you forever if you leave a comment and kudos :) thanks for reading


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